I don't even know.
I thought I'd try to write something - anything - since it's been several days since I posted. I haven't written anything since last week because I've been so busy eating my weight in Thanksgiving leftovers while sitting on my sofa reading Broken Harbor, a novel by Tana French, and watching Lifetime movies.
The beautiful thing about Lifetime movies is that you can watch them while you read, because Lifetime movies are so predictable. They are like comfort food for your brain. Lifetime movies are also excellent when you have a hangover.
Here's a little leftover from last year about Lifetime movies and why I am perfect for one: A Very Special Lifetime Christmas Movie...Starring Me.
This weekend I watched a movie that takes the characters of Little Women and puts them in a modern-day setting. It was complete crap. Louisa May Alcott is rolling over in her grave.
I watched Dear Santa, a movie about a psycho who stalks a widower and his daughter after she finds the daughter's letter to Santa asking for a new wife for her dad. OK, it's not presented as stalking. It's presented as FATE and LOVE and a whole host of other bullshit things that would make a woman track down a man so she can be some little girl's new mom. (The dead spouse is key in these movies, in case you didn't read my post about A Very Special Lifetime Christmas Movie.)
I also watched Love at the Christmas Table about two people who grow up spending Christmas Eve together every year. Over the years, they fall in love. At the end, of course, they get engaged. Because deciding to marry someone with whom you have spent one day out of the year is totally reasonable and that marriage is definitely going to work out.
After all that, I fixed myself a cocktail and I watched Lindsay Lohan play the role of Elizabeth Taylor in Liz & Dick. When I told Kate the title of what I was watching, she started giggling uncontrollably. And this is why you never hear about little boys being named Dick anymore.
The movie was pretty bad (everyone MUST stop pretending that Lindsay Lohan would be a great actress if only she didn't get in so much trouble). But the movie isn't bad enough to become campy fun. There aren't any good lines you can take from it and repeat obnoxiously. For instance, over the holiday I also watched some of R. Kelly's "hip-hopera" Trapped In The Closet and, if you visit me and stand in my kitchen for more than five minutes, you are likely to hear me sing this: He looks at the cabinet, he walks to the cabinet, he's close to the cabinet, now he's opening the cabinet.
While "watching" all these masterpieces, I finished Broken Harbor. I recommend all of Tana French's books. She's an excellent writer. All of her books are murder mysteries set in Ireland, but they go beyond your standard detective novels.
Broken Harbor really hit home for me in a lot of ways. I don't want to give too much away, but basically there were things that were painfully familiar to me, like how things can go so wrong in a short amount of time, how you can spend your entire life getting over something and still blaming yourself for it, and how dealing with someone who is mentally unstable is exhausting and frustrating and damaging to your own mental health.
I cried a little yesterday because I always cry after a holiday. Even when everything goes well, the holidays are difficult. We spent Thanksgiving Day with The Great Chris and Heather Talley™ and it was a wonderful day. The food was amazing. The company was excellent. I have asked Chris and Heather to officially adopt me and Kate and Jacob. They'd be fools not to at least consider it!
Having dinner with the Talleys allowed me to continue my 39-year streak of not cooking Thanksgiving dinner.
Friday, Kate convinced me we should put up the tree and decorate it. I was a little grumpy about it at first, but I'm glad we did it. The living room was festive for the arrival of Charles's parents, who we call MeMe and Bob. They arrived Friday afternoon bearing Thanksgiving leftovers. They left early yesterday morning and, about 20 minutes later, I noticed that they'd left a laptop behind. I called and they turned around to come pick it up.
Kate said, "Oh, good! I missed them already!"
Saying goodbye to your grandparents is hard. There's one thing that's hard about holidays. They always involve saying goodbye.
The holidays also are hard because they naturally evoke memories of past holidays. Thanksgiving was Charles's favorite holiday. Eating, watching football, eating some more. Taking home leftovers. Eating again. I told the kids that I think their dad loved the leftovers even more than the original meal.
We have one piece of apple pie left in the house and I am so grateful that it's almost gone. It turns out I can not be trusted around apple pie. I hope one of the kids comes home from school and eats it before tonight to save me from myself.
This morning I had scrambled egg whites for breakfast, a little post-Thanksgiving penance. As much as I love wearing elastic-waist pants, I would like to be able to fit into the rest of my clothes come January.
Maybe I should eat that last piece of apple pie before the kids get home.